Government of Tamilnadu

Department of Employment and Training

Course : TNPSC Group II Exam

Subject : General English
Topic : Nature Centered Literary Works and Global Issue Environment and
Conservation

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 NATURE CENTERED LITERARY WORKS AND
GLOBAL ISSUE ENVIRONMENT AND
CONSERVATION

FLYING WITH MOON ON THEIR WINGS

Bird Migration is the regular seasonal journey undertaken by many species of

birds. At a particular season thousands of birds travel from one place to another.
One of the greatest mysteries of bird life is migration or travelling. Every year,
during autumn and early winter, birds travel from their breeding haunts in the
northern regions of Asia, Europe and America to the southern, warmer lands. They
make the return journey again during spring and early summer. They are very
punctual too, unless they are delayed by the weather. We may calculate almost to a
day when we may expect our bird friends to return, carrying winter on their backs.
Some species also move out of one area into another, not very far away. All birds
have a certain amount of local movements, caused by the stresses of living and the
variations in food supply. This kind of movement is particularly noticeable in North
India where the seasons are well defined.
Birds which spend the summer in the higher reaches of mountains come
down during the winter to the lower foothills or even the plains. This type is very
common within India where the mighty Himalayas lie close to the Indo-Gangetic
plain.
The brave little voyagers face many dangers and hardships while travelling
long, long distances through the air over hill, forest and plain and over large
stretches of water. Sometimes sudden storms arise and drive them far out of their
course. Often they are blown right out to sea and they drown in the wild waves.
Sometimes at night bright lights attract and confuse the birds.
Migrating birds do not fly at their fastest. The migration speed is usually from
48 to 64 km an hour and rarely exceeds 80 km per hour. Small birds seldom exceed
48 km per hour, most shore birds fly between 64 and 80 km per hour, while many

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ducks travel at 80 to 96 km per hour. Migrants generally fly at a distance under 900
meters, but some travellers have been found sometimes at greater heights.
Some birds make the long journey in easy states, stopping to rest on the way.
Others fly great distances without pausing to rest and feed. Some fly by day, some
both by day and by night, but most of them speed on their way through darkness
after the sun has set.
Birds usually travel in flocks. The „V‟ shaped formation of cranes and geese attracts
much attention as the birds speed across the sky. Swallows, flycatchers, warblers,
shorebirds and water birds begin to gather in flocks, each with its own kind and
after a great deal of excited fluttering, twittering and calling, they rise up into the air
and away they go.
Birds were seen moving from one place to another with the change in seasons
from the earliest times, but people had strange ideas as to why the birds travelled or
where they went. To explain their absence from a place in a particular season, they
said that the birds buried themselves in the mud and slept there throughout the
winter.
Later, detailed studies of migration started. Information was gained by directly
observing the habits of birds, and also by ringing. Bird movements are also studied
by creating artificial conditions and studying their effects on birds.
Today, most of the information on migration has come from ringing young
and adult birds. Ringing is done by capturing a bird and placing on its leg a light
band of metal or plastic. The band bears a number, date, Identification mark and
the address to which the finder is requested to return the ring. The bird is then set
free. The place where such a bird is shot, captured or found dead, gives a clue to the
direction and locality to which the birds ahs migrated.
Ringing has proved that birds cover large distances. There is some evidence
to believe that the woodcock on its winter movements flies the Himalayas to the
Nilgiris without a pause, a distance of 2,400 km. The wild duck comes to our lakes
from Central Asia and Siberia flying 3,200 to 4,800 km over the Himalayas. The
rosy pastor comes from Eastern Europe or Central Asia. The wagtail, about the size
of a sparrow, comes from the Himalayan regions and Central Asia to the plains.
Smallest of all, the willow warbler, half the size of a sparrow, covers as many as
3,200 km to reach us every winter.
Why do birds migrate in spite of heavy loss of life on the way? Primarily to
escape the bitter cold and a restricted food supply. In the case of water birds, the
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food supply disappears altogether, when the water freezes and the fish and other
seafood are difficult to obtain. The main reason for the spring movement is the
availability of nesting sites and the need to escape summer heat.
The migration of birds is a fascinating study indeed, and there are many
unsolved problems which lie ahead. For example, how do the birds know when to
start? How do they know their way over the sea without any landmarks? How do
they manage to return year after year to the same locality? How do the young
cuckoos join the adult birds without previous experience, and without any guidance
from adult cuckoos which fly to India and Africa several weeks before the young
cuckoos are ready to leave their foster parents? These and many more such
interesting questions lie ahead of you to solve!

WILL THIRST BECOME –UNQUENCHABLE?

1. It is not yet noon in Delhi, Just 180 miles south of the Himalayan glaciers. But in
the narrow corridors of Nehru Camp, a slum in this city of 16 million, the blast
furnace of the north Indian summer has already sent temperatures soaring past
105 degrees Fahrenheit. Chaya, the 25-year-old wife of a fortune teller, has spent
seven hours joining the mad scramble for water that even today defines life in
this heaving metropolis and offers a taste of what the depletion of Tibet‟s water
and ice portends.
2. Chaya‟s day began long before sunrise, when she and her five children fanned
out in the darkness, armed with plastic jugs of every size. After day break, the
rumour of a tap with running water sent her stumbling in a panic through the
slum‟s narrow corridors. Now, with her containers still empty and the sun
blazing overhead, she has returned home for a moment‟s rest. Asked if she‟s
eaten anything today, she laughs: “We haven‟t even had any tea yet.”
3. Suddenly cries erupt - a water truck has been spotted. Chaya leaps up and joins
the human torrent in the street. A dozen boys swarm onto a blue tanker,
jamming houses in and siphoning the water out. Below, shouting women jostle
for position with their containers. In six minutes the tanker is empty. Chaya
arrived too late and must move on to chase the next rumour of water.
4. More than two-thirds of the city‟s water is drawn from the Yamuna and the
Ganges, rivers fed by Himalayan ice. If that ice disappears, the future will almost
certainly be worse. “We are facing an unsustainable situation,” says Diwan

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Singh, a Delhi environmental activist. “Soon - not in thirty years but in five to ten
- there will be an exodus because of the lack of water.”
5. The tension already seethes. In the clogged alleyway around one of Nehru
Camp‟s last functioning taps, which run for one hour a day, a man punches a
woman who cut in line, leaving a purple welt on her face.
6. “We wake up every morning fighting over water,” says Kamal Bhate, a local
astrologer watching the melee. This one dissolves into shouting and finger-
pointing, but the brawls can be deadly. In a nearby slum a teenage boy was
recently beaten to death for cutting in line.
7. Climatic changes and diminishing water supplies could reduce cereal yields in
South Asia by 5 percent within three decades. “We‟re going to see rising tension
over shared water resources, including political disputes between farmers,
between farmers and cities, and between human and ecological demands for
water,” says Peter Gleick, a water expert and President of the Pacific Institute in
Oakland, California. “And I believe more of these tensions will lead to violence.”
8. For the people in Nehru Camp, geopolitical concerns are lost in the frenzied
pursuit of water. In the afternoon, a tap outside the slum is suddenly turned on,
and Chaya, smiling triumphantly, hauls back a full, ten-gallon jug on top of her
head. The water is dirty and bitter, and there are no means to boil it.
9. But now, at last, she can give her children their first meal of the day: a place of
bread and a few spoonfuls of lentil stew. “They should be studying, but we keep
shooing them away to find water,” Chaya says. “We have no choice, because who
knows if we‟ll find enough water tomorrow.”

GOING FOR WATER

(Refer ”Figures Of Speech”)
SWEPT AWAY
The young Frenchwoman stepped out of her flooded house
and disappeared beneath the water

“Come on, We‟ve got to get out of here now”, Serge urged his partner Celine.
Flood water that had poured into their little terraced home was already 30
centimetres deep and rising. The couple had lifted the sofa onto the dining table and
stacked as many other possessions as they could out of the reach of the filthy water.

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CONSERVATION

It was 2:15 pm on Monday, September 22, 2003 and the small town of Lunel in
southern France had been battered violent storms since mid-morning.
Council worker Serge, 43 and 32-year old Celine, a home help, had lived most
of their lives in Lunel which stands only a few metres above sea level. The flat,
marshy area, floods frequently. This was the second time in just over a year that the
couple had found the home invaded by water.
Serge and Celine stepped out into the street, now a fast-flowing thigh-high
river. They waded across the road and Celine stepped over a low hedge which
separated the street from the pavement. Serge was following close behind when he
saw Celine fall. In an instant she had disappeared below the water.
“She‟s dead”, he thought. “It‟s all over. All they‟ll find is her body later”. Celine felt
herself being pulled under the water. Instinctively, she reached up for Serge‟s hand.
She felt his grasp but her relief was short-lived as his hand slipped away.
She couldn‟t understand what was happening. She was being swept along
underwater, helpless and swallowing mouthfuls of the filthy liquid. She couldn‟t
breathe. “I‟m going to die”, she thought. “I‟m drowning. There‟s no way I can
survive this”. Then she found that she could breathe again. In the dim light, she
could see that she was about ten metres from the manhole through which she had
plunged, but the current made it impossible to swim back.
She was in a two-metre wide concrete storm drain which was almost
completely filled with water and it was still rising. Across the drain stretched a small
plastic pipe. Further on, the tunnel was completely black.
“I‟ve got to try to grab that pipe”, Celine thought. “I‟ve got to keep myself as high out
of the water as I can”.
Slippery though it was, she managed to grasp the pipe. With supreme effort
she pulled the upper part of her body out of the water and manoeuvred herself
against the wall to stop herself being swept further along the drain.
Above ground, Serge panicked. “Help, help!” he cried, wading as fast as he could to
his nearest neighbour‟s house. “Quick! Celine‟s been sucked down a drain! I‟ve got
to go back, I‟ve got to get her out”.
“No,” said Louise Martinez, who lived opposite the couple. “We‟ll ring the fire
brigade.”
Drenched and freezing cold, Celine hung on. Thoughts came to her almost like
photographs. She could see her daughter Amandine turning to blow her a kiss as
she hurried into school. “I‟ll never see her again”, she thought. She wouldn‟t be
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there to celebrate Amandine‟s twelfth birthday in two weeks time. “No!‟ she said to
herself. “I‟ve got to be there for her. I‟ve got to survive”.
And then there was Serge. She thought of the squabble they‟d had that
morning. Now all she could think of was that Serge would have to tell Amandine
that her mother was dead. How will he tell her? she wondered.
It didn‟t bear thinking about. She couldn‟t let it happen. “I‟ve got to fight to the very
end”.
The firemen finally managed to battle through the floods about an hour after
they had received the call alerting them to Celine‟s disappearance. They shone
torches down the manhole and probed with metal rods but there was no sign of the
missing woman.
As the hung from the pipe, Celine saw a bright light. It was the firemen, she
realized, shining powerful torches down the manhole. She started tapping on the
pipe and battering the walls with her hands and arms, “I‟m here!” she shouted.
“Come and get me out.”
She watched as the firemen lowered metal rods, and she tried hard to shout
above the noise of the racing water.
Then, to her astonishment and anger, the lights and rods disappeared. It was black
now in the drain and she felt objects smashing against her - bags, branches the
contents of bins, all swept away in the food.
Unable to feel her legs, she knew she couldn‟t hold on to the pipe any longer. „I‟ve
got to do something”, she thought. The water level had dropped to her cehest.
“There‟s got to be an exit further on”, she reckoned. “All this water has got to go
somewhere. Perhaps there‟s a grill”. If it was shut she could be smashed to pieces
against it, but if it was open she would be free. She had to find out.
After a while, she was able to touch the bottom of the drain with her feet. The pipe
had narrowed. Her hopes rose until suddenly her face smashed against something
hard protruding from the wall-an iron bar.
Celine lost consciousness for a moment and came round to find herself once more
going under the water. At the same time she could feel something above her. It
seemed to be pieces of plastic hanging down from the roof. She grabbed one.
Soon the water picked up speed, the current became more and more difficult to
resist and Celine could no longer walk. Forced on her back, she once again felt
herself being sucked along, out of control.

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She couldn‟t hold on to the plastic any longer. She felt her body being thrown
around by the water, turning over and over in the icy deluge. Her shoulder, then her
legs and knees, slammed against the concrete wall. Still being buffeted by the
terrifying force of the storm water, Celine did not immediately realise that she was
in the open air. Night was falling. Then reality hit her. “I‟m outside! I‟m outside”!
She thought jubilantly.
She was in ditch whose water had over flowed in to a large flooded area, with houses
on one side and field on the other. She grabbed some tufts of grass and reeds but,
still unable to lift herself out of the torrent, she screamed for help.
Above the roaring of the water, she heard a man‟s voice. Jack Poderoso, a 45-year
old teacher, was standing on concrete platform just above the storm drain exit,
checking that his daughter‟s horse was all right. “Is there someone down there?” he
shouted.
“Yes, I‟m here, I‟m here,” Celine yelled back, “What‟s the time?
“It‟s after 7pm”, he replied.
Celine was amazed. “Have I been down here for five hours?”
“Ring Serge,” She shouted, “Tell him I‟m alive. He thinks I‟m dead.”
Jack could see that the woman was weak and still in danger. “No, calm down” he
said, “You‟ve got to get out of that river.”
Celine managed to heave herself onto the muddy bank, but there was still no way
Jack could reach her.
Jack forced Celine to give him Serge‟s number, repeating it figure by figure above
the water‟s roar. When nobody answered, Celine managed to recall Serge‟s brother‟s
number. Celine‟s head ached but, urged on by Jack, she dragged herself to her feet.
Then she heard another voice, inquiring “Where‟s the body?” It was a fireman
bearing a bag. It was after 8 pm when Serge arrived at Lunel‟s fire station.
A fire engine pulled up outside. The doors opened. Inside sat Celine, her hair wet
and bedraggled, her face battered. She had no voice left. She could only collapse
weeping into Serge‟s arms.
No one can understand how Celine survived. She has her own theory. “When I want
something, I‟m very determined. I wanted to be there for my daughter and for
Serge.”

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CONSERVATION

GAIA TELLS HER TALES

I‟m Gaia, the personification of the primordial mother Earth. I am known by
many names in different languages and in different places. The Greeks call me Gala,
the Indians call me Bhoomi Matha and the English call me Earth. I am a huge ball
in space spinning at a rapid pace while revolving round the Sun. Do you know how
old I am? I was a part of the sun, millions of years ago. Following the big bang that
occurred in the cosmos, I fell apart.
In the early years of my life, I was a land mass called Pangea and a big water mass
called Panthalassa, which covers two-thirds of my surface. Due to gravity, I am able
to hold everything in its place! I am the only life supporting planet in the universe.
Scientists are peering through their telescopes even as I am speaking; checking to
see whether there is any other planet with life in it. Research is still on! In the
beginning when there were just plants growing and animals wandering all over me,
life was very peaceful. There existed a natural rhythm that bound the entire species
of life. There was peace and there was abundance, assuring the survival of every
creature.
Of Course, I was very happy when man arrived, I was proud that a superior
creature had come to protect and care for me. He not only admired me but also
worshipped me with utmost reverence. Even when your tribe increased, I had no
problem because the ecosystem was still well-balanced and intact. I have a large
heart-large enough to accommodate all of you. However when you became greedy
and under the pretext of development exploited all the natural resources
indiscriminately, my trouble began. I am deeply concerned about the way my
resources are being ravaged. You do not replenish what you consume.
You all know it is getting hotter by the day and as a result my glaciers are melting,
my forests burning, my rivers drying up and my animals dying. You are indifferent
to your own actions. You have also turned a deaf ear to the cry of my creatures.
Where have your warmth and your love for nature disappeared?
You read the newspapers and journals and watch documentaries about
environmental pollution. Many of the rarest of species have become extinct and
some are on the verge of extinction! Who is to be held responsible for this pathetic
state of affairs? The ozone gas that acts like a canopy, protecting you all from the
harmful ultra-violet rays of the sun is depleting. The use of aerosol sprays has led to
the increase of CFC content in the atmosphere and has eroded the ozone layer at the

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poles. As a result, an expanding hole has been created in the ozone layer. Many
deadly diseases such as cancer are caused due to this damage.
My forests are very important for your survival. The trees bind the soil and
preserve it. They bring about rain filling up lakes, ponds and rivers. You cut down
trees mindlessly to meet your immediate needs. The act of deforestation has
reduced the forest area to a considerable extent. The animals which inhabited these
forests have been rendered homeless.
How are you planning to address these problems? Do you think that nature
will regenerate all by herself? Are you going to turn a blind eye to these dangers?
Are you going to surrender to the circumstances in despair?
Don‟t you have the wherewithal to bring back the glorious past? Nothing is
impossible for you, but the choice is yours. As a mother it is my duty to warn you of
the impending dangers of neglecting me. Even your own scientists concur with my
views. How can I put up with the sight of my own children being poisoned and their
safety being threatened? You may be careless, but how can a mother afford to be
indifferent?
You have to put a stop to this slide for your own welfare. To begin with, I shall
suggest certain measures that you can easily implement in your everyday life.
 Use eco-friendly vehicles such as bicycles and solar cars. Prefer public
transport to private conveyance. Adopt car pooling system.
 Plant saplings to commemorate any celebration.
 Choose bio-degradable products over synthetic ones.
 Maximise the use of natural light. Conserve power by switching off electrical
and electronic and electronic appliances when not in use.
 Do not waste water. Harvest rain water. Recycle bathroom water for your
kitchen garden.
My dear little children, I love you so much as I loved your parents in the past. That
is the reason I‟m here, narrating my tale. Also I remind your of your responsibility
of protecting your own sweet home-your only abode in the immense universe! Seek
to restore the harmony of the bygone days.
I‟m not mere ball of mud, water and minerals. I too possess a body and mind, a
heart and soul-just like you. It is you who keep me alive. I live in you; I live with
you; I live for you!

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